


One For The Road

by fikidurin



Category: The Hobbit - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Not Related, Angst and Feels, Angst with a Happy Ending, M/M, Mild Smut, Post-Break Up
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-08
Updated: 2020-05-08
Packaged: 2021-03-03 00:00:35
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,196
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24065461
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fikidurin/pseuds/fikidurin
Summary: In town for Thorin and Bilbo's wedding, Fili is not looking forward to being confronted by his ex-boyfriend, and the man who broke his heart.
Relationships: Bilbo Baggins/Thorin Oakenshield, Fíli/Kíli (Tolkien)
Comments: 15
Kudos: 71





	One For The Road

**Author's Note:**

> _Inspired by the song 'One For The Road', by Arctic Monkeys._
> 
> Beta'd by the amazing [linane](https://linane-art.tumblr.com), whose amazing works you should absolutely check out, if you haven't already.

“Fili!”

The voice that hails him is familiar, but in the split-second before Fili identifies the speaker, he’s wracked with panic. _Please not yet, I’m not ready_ _… oh, thank God._

He turns and greets Bofur with a genuine smile. “Long time no see. I have to say, you scrub up well. I’m honestly surprised to see you in a suit.”

“Not as surprised as I am to see you, full stop,” Bofur points out, the corner of his mouth tugging up wryly. “Me and the lads weren’t sure you’d come.”

To his credit, Bofur looks like he wants to take the words back as soon as they leave his mouth, but this is Bofur and he doesn’t. He says what he means and he means what he says, and Fili respects that about him.

Despite that, Fili can’t stop the sharp tug to his chest at the reminder of why he left town in the first place. “I wouldn’t miss Thorin’s wedding for anything. Not even my own broken heart.”

“It’s still broken then?” Bofur latches onto the wrong part of the sentence, and Fili simply shrugs. He can’t quite bring himself to smile, but it’s obvious Bofur doesn’t understand how stupid that question is.

Kili is wild and reckless, a force that burst into Fili’s life in one magnificent instant and changed him forever the next. He’s untameable, destructive, speaking a language all of his own, and yet it’s impossible not to love him.

Kili has this way of carving out a space for himself in people’s hearts, and leaving a permanent hollow scar when he moves on.

Perhaps Fili should have known, then, that his love wouldn’t be enough and that breaking up was inevitable.

Even so, the place that Kili carved out within his chest still reverberates like a bottomless cavern, an echo of love that will never truly fade. 

“It is what it is. What happened between Kili and I is ancient history, and today is about Thorin and Bilbo. We can be adults.”

“I’m glad to hear that.”

Fili freezes, as the words don’t come from Bofur’s lips. Rather, they come from behind him and he knows that voice. He’s heard it every night for the last year, in his dreams, nightmares and everything in between.

He’s heard it at its best and worst, begging Fili to fill him, screaming curses at him during one of their many fights. That same voice has said ‘I love you’, and ‘it’s over’, with the same tone of absolute certainty, heedless of the scars both phrases have left on Fili’s heart.

A heart that will always belong to Kili, no matter how many hours or miles separate them.

Despite his own words about what happened between them being ancient history, Fili can’t bring himself to turn around. Not until he takes a deep breath and steels himself.

Kili looks much the same as ever. Older, perhaps, if Fili squints. His hair hangs maybe an inch or so longer now. The twinkle in his eye is ever-present, and his teeth are blinding as he smiles.

Seeing that smile on Kili’s face feels like coming home, and Fili sways on his feet, trying to remember how to breathe.

The silence hangs in the air between them, suffocating, and Kili breaks it before it can take the last of the air from Fili’s lungs. “It’s good to see you.”

Fili opens his mouth without even knowing what he’s going to say, but he’s interrupted before he can get the words out—Dwalin calling for him to calm down Thorin, who seems to think Bilbo has gotten cold feet—and he’s torn between relief and disappointment.

Then Kili’s fingers close around his wrist, keeping him in place even as he tries to leave. He stills, head tilting over his shoulder in inquiry.

“We’ll catch up later,” Kili promises, before he withdraws and vanishes into the rest of the wedding crowd.

Fili can’t decide if that’s a threat or a promise, but he feels the ghost of Kili’s touch on his wrist for the rest of the day, burning deliciously.

* * *

The wedding goes off without a hitch, as does the afterparty. Tears are shed and Dwalin makes a rousing speech that Fili is willing to bet his life savings had been heavily edited by Balin.

When the venue begins to close its doors, Kili announces that the party is moving back to his place.

Fili knows with absolute certainty that he’s invited, as Kili makes sure to lock eyes directly with him as the open invitation is extended to the room.

It leaves him with a knot of anticipation in his stomach, and he’s grateful for the reprieve offered by going back to his hotel room to change.

If he’s going to allow himself into Kili’s space, into the flat they both once called home, he’ll do it in something that isn’t a tuxedo that had been uncomfortable when he put it on, and now just chafes.

A cream henley that feels almost indulgently soft and a pair of dark jeans are what he chooses instead, and he pulls his hair and braids free from the ponytail which has held them back neatly all day.

Clad in his everyday clothes, Fili draws strength from them like they’re a suit of armour. With his hands shoved into his pockets, he feels armed and ready to face whatever the world—or Kili—throws at him. 

In the lobby, he almost talks himself out of leaving, and considers just going to bed. He doesn’t owe Kili anything, not anymore.

Yet he can’t deny he’s curious. Masochistic, to a certain degree, if he’s willing to put himself in the same room as Kili again, when every sight of him brings up painful memories. But it’s not just about Kili. His friends are there, friends he’s seen far too little of in the last year.

Indecision leaves him torn, but eventually Fili finds himself scrambling into the back of a taxi and giving an all-too-familiar address.

* * *

He stands in the street for a good five minutes before the cold night wins out, and he buzzes the intercom.

“ _Hello_?”

There’s raucous laughter in the background, the sounds of his friends all having a good time. Fili can hear the beat from whatever music is playing, but can’t quite identify the song.

“ _Hello? Anyone there? Speak up, it’s pretty loud in here_.”

It isn’t until Kili speaks again that Fili realises he hasn’t answered him. He swallows hard and leans closer to the intercom.

“It’s Fili.” The words feel like too much and not enough all at once, because _this used to be his home_ , and now he’s buzzing to get inside, once again at Kili’s whim—

The click of the lock releasing is his only response.

He climbs the stairs two at a time, rubbing his hands together as he ducks into the hallway. He’s all braced to knock on the door when he notices it’s already hanging open, and Kili is leaning in the doorway, casually.

Fili stops and clears his throat. “Hey.”

“I wasn’t sure you could hear me, with all the noise they’re making.” Kili jabs a thumb behind him, a fond smile tugging at the corner of his lips. “I think Legolas and Gimli just started a drinking competition.”

Fili manages to hold back a groan, but it’s a near thing. “Well, at least that will stop their bickering, they can’t talk and drink at the same time.”

Kili snorts and steps aside to let Fili inside. “You want a beer?”

A beer sounds like the best thing in the world right now, the buzz from the drinks at the wedding reception has long since worn off. “Yes,” Fili responds quickly, and steps inside the apartment. “Please. In the kitchen?”

“That’s right, I’m sure you don’t need a guided tour to remember where it is,” Kili jokes, and then looks stricken. “Fili—”

“It’s fine,” Fili forces himself to meet Kili’s eyes. “Relax. I know what you meant. You want a beer while I’m there?”

Kili hesitates for a moment, but eventually nods, the smile returning to his face. “Yeah, go on then,” he says eventually. “Thanks.”

Fili’s walk to the kitchen doesn’t _quite_ count as fleeing, but he thinks it might be a near thing.

* * *

A body drops heavily onto the carpet next to him and Fili glances over, mid-laughter. Kili smiles across at him and Fili feels himself smile back. The few beers he’s had since his arrival have helped relax him and he feels more at ease.

“How come you’re down here?”

Fili shrugs, rubbing the back of his head sheepishly. “Last one to arrive, all the seats were taken. I’m good down here though, it’s comfy.”

Kili nods, and then he’s leaning against Fili’s arm, taking a pull from the bottle of beer he’s holding.

Fili savours the heat that Kili radiates, welcoming it despite the prickle of sweat at the back of his own neck. He wants to say something, to break the silence between them, but nothing seems right so he stays quiet.

It’s not as awkward as he thought, sitting in silence and just enjoying each other’s company. They’re surrounded by their friends and music and chatter, and yet it feels like they’re the only two people in the world right now.

“I—”

“So—”

They both break off and Kili’s laughter is soft, lilting. It’s the most beautiful sound that Fili has ever heard.

“Go on,” he says, letting Kili go first.

“I’m rubbish at small talk,” Kili tells him, his eyes dark and intense. “I always have been. And I want to ask you how you’re doing, and what you’ve been up to, and that just feels… feels really _stupid_. But I really want to know.”

Fili stares at him, trying to gauge Kili’s sincerity, but can see nothing but honesty reflecting back. 

He swallows a mouthful of his drink, which suddenly seems to have no taste at all, before answering. 

“I’ve been alright. Busy with work. You know how it is.” It feels like a pretty poor response, and the way Kili’s brows pinch betray that he feels the same, so he continues. “It’s nice to be back. It’s good to see everyone again. How about you?”

“It’s very good to see everyone again.” Kili’s response is rife with meaning, and Fili swallows his response that Kili must see their friends all the time as he catches on.

Their eyes meet again and hold this time, and Fili knows in that moment that he won’t be going back to his hotel room tonight.

The invitation to stay is written in every facet of Kili’s body language, in the way he leans into Fili’s shoulder, the way his fingers idly trace the rim of the beer bottle that he’s nursing, the private smiles that are only for Fili.

And in return, his acceptance is confirmed in the way that he can’t quite look away from Kili’s eyes, or the fact that he hasn’t pulled away or refused the touch, the way his heart thuds in his chest faster than the beat of whatever crappy song is playing.

This was always in the cards, and neither of them have ever been the type to fold.

No matter the cost.

* * *

They meander through the night, different paths through the crowd of their friends separating them once again, but this time Fili knows that they will reunite at some point.

He talks to Ori and Bombur, Legolas—who appears to have won the drinking competition, if the passed-out Gimli is anything to go by—and Bard, and Nori and Dwalin, both of whom make their excuses before too long, only a few minutes apart.

Fili wonders if they genuinely believe nobody knows about them, or if they just like the air of mystery that sneaking around maintains.

Either way, their leaving triggers the exodus, and people start leaving over the course of the next thirty minutes.

Despite the unshakeable desire to be alone with Kili, which is a far cry from his feelings that morning, Fili is sad to see his friends leave. Still, Kili’s blackout blinds have done a good job of hiding the fact that the sun is already beginning to rise outside, strings of molten orange glowing on the ceiling, the light creeping through the horizontal cracks between the slats.

It's officially no longer late, but early.

Bofur is the last to go, though he doesn’t outstay his welcome, finishing his drink in record time between his farewells, and stumbling into a taxi with his brother and cousin.

Finally they’re alone, and it hits Fili like a freight train all at once.

He hasn’t been in this apartment since the night they broke up. He hadn’t even come to collect his things, sending Thorin and Bilbo in his stead.

His pulse thrums, ramping up the anxiety within him as he glances towards the door, wondering if he should leave before there’s no going back. Before he does something he’ll regret.

“One for the road?” Kili’s voice halts him and Fili wonders why he feels caught out when he hasn’t even gotten up from the carpet.

He nods before he notices the bottle of whisky being waved at him. “I thought you were saving that for a special occasion?”

“What could be more special?” Kili grins, and drops onto the floor beside him. He’s barefoot, toes curling as he sits cross-legged, the epitome of relaxed.

Fili nods absently as Kili sets the glasses down, pouring a generous measure of whisky into each of them. “I suppose Thorin and Bilbo’s wedding does count as special.”

Kili’s hand pauses, the bottle tilting precariously over the glass tumbler. “That too,” he agrees, though the tone of his voice suggests he thinks Fili is an idiot.

Before Fili can think too closely about that, Kili takes his glass and holds it aloft. Fili clinks his against it and takes a sip.

The amber liquid is warm and smoky, one of Thorin’s gifts when they first moved in together. The burn starts in his throat, moving lower until it curls and unfurls in his stomach, but it does little to quash his nerves.

It doesn’t help that he’s the only one that seems to feel the tension in the room. Kili never seems to experience things like uncertainty or anxiety, and for that Fili hates him a little bit and envies him a lot.

It feels like they’re playing a game of poker, but Kili has stacked the deck, knowing every card that will come up and making sure he has the best hand to play.

And yet…

There’s a look in Kili’s eyes that he’s never seen before.

“What are you thinking?” The words slip from his mouth, unbidden, and though Fili would cram them back in and swallow them if he could, that’s not an ability he possesses.

“I’m thinking… that I hate that this is the first time I’ve seen you in a whole year.”

Fili’s jaw clenches and he has to force himself not to look away. “Kili—”

“Please let me explain, I need to tell you that us breaking up, it wasn’t—”

“Stop.”

Fili’s tone leaves no room for argument, steady and firm. It’s a tone he’s never used on Kili before, and that alone seems to do the trick. Kili’s mouth closes, and whatever he was about to say is lost.

It’s both a kindness and a cruelty, not letting Kili get the words out that he so desperately wants to say. But there’ll be no going back if Fili hears them, and it will make things so much harder if he falls for Kili again. If he ever even stopped loving him in the first place.

Kili's mouth is downturned now, and against his will Fili softens. He exhales steadily and slowly reaches down to the floor between them, resting his hand on top of Kili’s.

There’s a beat of silence when he thinks that Kili might not take the hint, but then the tanned hand underneath his spins. Their fingers interlock in a gesture that is both familiar and new, and decidedly _right_.

Fili drains the rest of his glass and decides that if this truly is a poker game, his heart is the ante, and he’s all in.

* * *

One glass turns into two, and then three.

They stop at three, because they’re already too drunk to be thinking clearly. It’s uncomfortably warm now, between the drinks and how close Kili is sitting.

Somehow they’ve gravitated towards each other, and Fili’s arm is draped casually over Kili’s shoulders. He’d almost forgotten how well they fit together. It’s gratifying to know they still do.

They haven’t spoken in several minutes, but they’re far from silent. Kili is singing along to whatever song is playing. It’s not one Fili recognises, but then Kili’s taste has always been eclectic.

It’s catchy, whatever it is. Fili finds his fingers lightly tapping against Kili’s knee to the beat, content to just listen to him sing.

He’s out of tune, the discordance jarring but not in a negative way. Like the dissonance only adds to what makes Kili phenomenal.

 _But that isn’t quite it_ , Fili thinks. _He’s discordant, but that’s what makes him harmonious._

Even Kili’s singing is the perfect metaphor for his personality. He’s different, he stands out, and he’s unapologetic for it.

Fili’s arm slips from Kili’s shoulder, tracing across his back as he releases him entirely. At the loss of contact, Kili’s head lifts, his lips parted in surprise as their eyes meet.

And Fili is lost.

He thinks maybe it should be one of those moments where neither of them knows who leaned in first.

It’s not.

Fili definitely leans in first, but Kili meets him halfway. He’s always been quick like that.

His fingers come up to cradle Kili’s jaw, needing the grounding point of contact. This kiss, however light and tentative, is the most ragged and raw experience of Fili’s life to date.

They break apart, and he sweeps his tongue across his lower lip, tasting Kili and smoky whisky and immediately craving more.

Their noses bump together painful as they both seem to have the same idea at once, but Fili wastes no time recoiling. He simply adjusts his angle and leans in again, sealing his mouth over Kili’s.

This kiss could not be described as gentle. If Fili had to choose one word, it would be relentless. Relentless, coaxing, devouring, until there’s nothing but basic _need_ left.

Kili’s hands knot in Fili’s hair, fingers scrunching in his braids as he licks into Fili’s mouth. It borders on painful, and it’s delicious.

Kili could never hold him tight enough.

Their clothes leave a trail behind them as they manage to make it to the bedroom, and then in a matter of minutes Fili is spread out on the bed, with Kili’s knees pinned on each side of his waist, drizzling lube onto his fingers.

And that’s when Fili forgets how to breathe entirely.

Because the thing is, Kili is everything he’d thought that very morning. Wild, reckless, untameable and destructive.

And he definitely speaks a language all his own.

The problem is, after so long together, Fili is fluent in that language, knows it like he was born speaking it.

Kili says things in every touch, every caress, every kiss.

And right now, his every action is screaming at Fili. His head splayed back, baring his throat in a gesture of vulnerability as he sinks down onto Fili’s cock.

Fili gasps for air like a drowning man, and his brain only focuses on sensations like _heat, tight, home_.

Their fingers interlock, and Kili clings to his hand like it’s a lifeline.

* * *

Kili’s breathing evens out, and Fili stares up at the ceiling dispassionately.

Though his body thrums with satisfaction, it doesn’t extend to his heart.

He doesn’t know what he was truly expecting. A sense of closure, maybe. Definitely a rekindling of the feelings Kili always brought out of him.

He isn’t sure what he feels now, but it’s neither of those things.

He glances over at Kili, eyes tracing over his relaxed face, his kiss-bitten lower lips, the marks Fili left over his neck and chest, the hint of barely-there bruises from where they clung to each other.

He doesn’t have to look to know the same marks adorn his own body. It’s like a story of their rendezvous, and Fili stares down at that evidence with a mixture of pride and regret.

He slides out of bed quietly, withdrawing from Kili’s embrace as slowly as he can, trying not to wake him.

Sneaking out like a one night stand leaves a bitter, ashy taste in his mouth, but with the uncertainty of the alternative looming over them, Fili doesn’t feel like he has a choice.

He fumbles for his underwear on the floor, pulling them up before something prickles at the back of his neck, and he instinctively glances over at the bed.

Kili’s eyes are fixed on him, reflecting the light from the gap in the curtains.

Fili freezes in place, his breath coming out slow. He doesn’t break the silence between them, not sure what to say. So he puts it in Kili’s hands.

“You don’t have to go.”

“I know.” Fili also knows that’s an invitation to stay, but he doesn’t get back into bed. He hovers at the foot of it, and meets Kili’s eyes in an obvious challenge.

The last time they were on the cusp of an ending like this, Fili opened himself up and still lost everything. This time, Kili needs to be the one to take the step.

“I want you to stay.” The response is immediate, but then Kili adds, “but I need you to want it too.”

“I never wanted to be anywhere else but here.” The words hang between them, heavy, and Fili sinks down onto the bottom of the bed, rubbing at his eyes.

Kili kicks off the covers, unashamed of his nudity, and scrambles down to meet him. Fili lets him take his hand, their fingers lacing together. He finds that he somehow draws comfort from that.

“We should have talked about this before when I tried to bring it up, instead of falling into bed.”

“I wasn’t ready to hear it then.” Fili allows himself to shoulder that portion of blame. “But I am now.”

Kili nods, but doesn’t immediately speak. Fortunately, Fili knows he’s just trying to organise his thoughts, to make sure there are no misunderstandings between them.

“When I was growing up, everyone always used to tell me I was like a hurricane. I charged in and didn’t care what destruction I left behind.”

That was a good metaphor, Fili has to admit. “What does that have to do with—”

He’s silenced by Kili’s finger, pressed to his lips.

“Let me finish. Anyway, I was a hurricane. And I kind of liked that about myself. I was free and happy. And then you asked me to marry you. And all I could think of was chains. Manacles. A noose. Tying me down and choking the life out of me.”

Fili swallows. _Ouch_. “I never wanted you to feel like that.”

“But you didn’t. I was wrong, Fili, and the moment I let you go, the moment I ended it between us, I realised that. Because, do you know what a hurricane is? Wind. You were the better half of me, and without you to ground me, I just… blew away with the next breeze, until there was nothing but devastation behind me. And I didn’t care, because you were gone.”

Fili pushes aside the rising emotions in his chest, raises his eyebrow, and then starts to laugh at the inaccuracy and ridiculousness of Kili’s words. He feels kind of bad about it, but he can’t stop himself. The only options presented to him are laugh or cry, and he chooses the former.

“Well it’s not a perfect metaphor!” Kili defends, but then he’s laughing too, mirthful tears rolling down his cheeks.

And when the laughter dies, Fili kisses those tears away.

“I missed you,” he says, and it’s somehow the easiest thing in the world to say.

“I love you,” Kili says in return, and while the words don’t perform miracles, Fili can feel the echo in his chest fall silent.

It’s a start.

“Will you stay?” Kili adds, without waiting for a response, like he doesn’t expect Fili to return the sentiment of those three stupid little words with his entire body and soul.

“I love you,” Fili tells him firmly. “And I’ll stay.”

There’s hope in Kili’s eyes, and Fili can feel it reflecting back from his own.

* * *

_So we all go back to yours and you sit and talk to me on the floor_ _  
_ _There's no need to show me round, baby, I feel like I've been in here before_  
_I've been wondering whether later when you tell everybody to go_ _  
_ _Will you pour me one for the road?_

**Author's Note:**

> If you have any thoughts, I'd love to hear them! Leave a comment below, or even a kudos.
> 
> You can find me on tumblr @ [fikidurin](https://fikidurin.tumblr.com)


End file.
